by Lynda Aicher
Slowly, the men before them bowed their heads and dropped to a knee in a formal bow of reverence. She recognized one of them as the man who had met them at the door of the farmhouse, which now seemed like eons ago. She watched, stunned and overwhelmed as their actions were copied and repeated in a successive wave of deference until the entire circle was kneeling in supplication to them.
The dragon and the phoenix.
Damian’s amazement matched her own. But within him, she felt a quiet thread of homecoming, understanding and forgiveness.
His head turned to her and together, they shifted. The second her body formed, she was in Damian’s arms. His embrace crushed her to his chest, then his mouth was on hers. Hot, claiming and more than welcomed.
His hands laced into her hair before he slowly pulled back to stare into her eyes.
“How?” he whispered, the wonder expressed on his face as he absorbed her features.
She understood what he was feeling because it matched her own. “I don’t know,” she answered. “The energy encompassed me when your flames hit. I could feel the heat, the sizzle of the fire as it joined with me, but there was no pain. And inside me, the energy flared, ignited by the flames. The stone came to life and for a time, I became one with the fire.” She caressed his cheek, the stubble rough and comforting under her fingertips. “Then I found the bird. And I understood what I could do. What I could be.”
His hands touched her as his eyes followed, skimming over her as if he was checking to see if she was whole, real. Somehow, she was completely unhurt. Not even her hair was singed. The fire had rejuvenated her instead of killing her. Even her clothing had returned, unmarked, when she’d shifted back.
His hands slid to her hair, and he tipped his head to rest his forehead against hers. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” His breath brushed warm across her cheeks and lips.
She smiled. “Never.”
She felt his sigh of relief under her hands as they caressed his chest and in her heart where his energy was joined with hers. It was then that their animals rejoiced, the dragon once again curling around the phoenix in a jubilant embrace for the return of its mate.
The energy settled around them, a contented exhale at what should be.
Damian grasped her hand and together they turned to face the men who’d first knelt down to them. His energy flowed openly through their joined hands, a vital piece of who she now was.
The stone was warm against her chest, but for the first time ever, it was absorbing the energy—their united energy—instead of giving energy. She could feel the difference even if she didn’t understand the reason. Like so many things now, understanding wasn’t a qualification for accepting.
“Look,” Damian said, tugging lightly on her hand as he tipped his chin upward. “On the cliffs.”
She lifted her gaze, her hand clenching around Damian’s, astonished at the sight that met her. There, high on the Aquinnah Cliffs that overlooked Moshup Beach, the moonlight shone down on a long line of people as they stood silently watching the events below.
Her people.
Recognition drummed withinin her even if the faces were hidden in shadow.
In the middle, holding a long staff topped with feathers, was the Wampanoag shaman, Joseph. Flanking him on each side were Kayla and Aunt Beverly.
“How?” Amber whispered, knowing the answer would not come. Her free hand shook as she lifted it to rest against her lips. “Did they know?”
“Does it matter?” Damian asked.
Slowly, in virtual duplication of the Energen forces just moments ago, Joseph, Kayla and her aunt dropped to a knee and bowed their heads. In a rippled domino effect, the people down both sides of the line followed until the entire mass of people on the cliffs were kneeling in respect to them as well.
“Wow,” she said under her breath. Her heart beat hard and demanding at the impact of the simple show of respect. She now understood what Damian had felt.
Finally, after years of ridicule and scorn, she was accepted by her people for who she was. Even though it shouldn’t matter, it meant so much.
Tears formed, blurring the image before her even as her shoulders pulled back and her chin lifted in pride. “Now what?”
In apparent answer to her question, Joseph rose, raised his staff high, then turned and walked away. Her aunt rose next, lifted her hand in a silent wave, then followed Joseph away from the cliff’s edge. All down the line, the people of the Wampanoag tribe stood and followed suit until once again, the cliffs were empty.
At that moment, the wind gusted off the water to blow across the beach and over the cliffs, the long grass that edged the top waving silently in the emptiness.
“Rise,” Damian commanded to the men before them, the authority in his voice leaving no doubt of his position. The four men in front rose, each one lifting their heads to meet Damian’s gaze. All of them were covered in blood from the battle, their clothing torn and battered from their efforts to protect her.
The man in middle, the one from the house, stepped forward. His voice was deep and full of respect when he spoke.
“Damian, it is time for you to come home.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Damian inhaled, his chest expanding with warm air and pride. But more, it was filled with the long-awaited relief of coming home.
The scent of jasmine and honeysuckle blended in the night air and settled into the warm spring breeze that drifted inside the walls of the Energen compound. The constant temperature that persisted within the city was a benefit of the race’s abilities to control the energy and elements. It was a benefit that he’d missed along with so many other things.
In the open courtyard where they’d been brought stood the formidable line of Energen elders. The Heads of the Houses of Air, Fire, Water, Earth and Spirit. The same people who had accused and crucified Amber and him so recently.
Amber gripped his hand, a lifeline he would never let go. It was because of her that he was now home.
“You good?” she asked softly, even though she was the one who was completely out of her element.
He gave a tight smile and a short nod. “With you, yes.”
Cronus, the Ancient of the enclave, stepped forward, his hands spread wide and open, a large smile of welcome lighting his lined face. “Damian. Amber. Welcome home.”
Damian stiffened, but held his features placid. He wanted to believe the welcome was true and heartfelt. “That is quite a change from yesterday.”
I am sorry for all that you had to endure, Damian. Cronus’s words drifted into his mind.
Giving away nothing, Damian responded in kind. And you knew all along? You were in on it all?
The elder dropped his hands, his eyes narrowing slightly. The new power sits well on you. He turned to Amber. “I apologize for my actions yesterday. Unfortunately, it was a necessary move to test your path. The Marked One has chosen the light and for that, we are forever grateful. Welcome to our world, Amber.”
Amber lifted her chin and gave a tight smile in response. Damian squeezed her hand, a private signal of approval. She was so beautiful standing there, proud and regal after all she’d been through. All she’d accepted and overcome so quickly with a grace that stunned him to his soul.
Your strength amazes me, he told her silently.
As does yours, she replied.
Cronus stepped forward and stared pointedly at Damian’s hand, the one that bore their mark—the intertwined white dragon and phoenix. “It is as the saying goes: when the dragon soars with the phoenix at his side, the people will enjoy happiness for years, bringing peace and tranquility to all in the energy.”
“I’ve never heard that saying,” Damian mused, his eyes narrowing at the truth of what Cronus was saying.
The Ancient looked up, the countless years of knowledge and wisdom sparking in his eyes. “It is a very old Chinese saying that has long been twisted to mean something different than its original intent. Like so many thi
ngs, Gog persuaded and enflamed a belief that was far from the truth. But that is his gift, his deadly skill that has incited strife and war for more years than we can comprehend. The Slanderer, The Oppressor—names for Gog that fit because that is what he does.”
“But we can change that?” Amber asked, her voice a solid cord in the thread of doubt that wound around Damian.
Cronus smiled, a gentle easing of respect and understanding. “The two of you are our best hope of finding peace once again. The balance is tipping. Too much in either direction will cause an imbalance that can never be righted. The dragon and phoenix united in our lead will correct the course and keep us steady.”
The elder’s face sobered before he continued. “The time has come for you to ascend, Damian.” Cronus turned and pointed to the long set of stairs that rose majestically into the night sky. “Last night, these rose from the ground when you joined with Amber. A sign to us that our king is ready to rise.”
The elder turned back to face them. “Your sacrifice has been for a reason. You have proven yourself loyal and strong. And now, with your mate by your side, you must rise to lead our battle against The Oppressor. For soon, Gog will be free.”
“Why?” Damian’s question echoed through the courtyard, the small group of people cringing at the hardness of his voice. “After all I have been forced to endure, why?”
“Louk and Airiana were the catalyst,” Cronus explained. “The Two that came together despite the odds against it. With them, the dragon woke, but they also brought proof that the mighty winged dragons still existed.” Cronus crooked his fingers, and Louk stepped forward from his position behind them. At Louk’s side was a tall woman with a striking blend of Asian and Caucasian features. Damian assumed she was the Shifter the other Ancient had referred to and thus Louk’s mate.
“They were the first in the series of steps that must be executed over this year, the Year of the Dragon.” Cronus looked at Damian and Amber. “You two are the key to the second. The most vital step that you must complete, or all the rest will fail. Our very survival is dependent upon you accepting who you are and your role in the coming war. You must ascend, Damian, with Amber at your side, or all your suffering will be for naught.”
“Why us?” Damian had to ask. “Of all the Energens in the world, why me? Why her?”
Cronus looked to the sky then turned to Amber. “Tomorrow, you will turn twenty-four.”
She smiled, a slight flush rising on her cheeks. “Yes. Tomorrow’s my birthday.”
Cronus returned her smiled. “Born on the vernal equinox in the Year of the Dragon, conceived by both Energen and Shifter. She who straddles light and dark, born of both positive and negative, will define the course of the Great War. Like your namesake—amber—you are the true connector: the balance that harmonizes yin and yang, as well as the past, present and future.”
“But it is only with Damian that I have that balance.”
“Yes.” Cronus nodded then addressed Damian. “You are the stabilizer. The rare one with a strength of character strong enough to endure a thousand years of pain and wrongful exile without losing himself in misery and self-pity. The second son and heir to the House of Air, you, Damianos Aeros, are the Chosen One for what you bring our world. It is through the Air bloodline that the winged dragons have returned. You are a descendant of the Royal House of the Winged Dragons and thus heir to the throne. I know this because a five-toed dragon is the mark of royalty reserved solely for the king.”
Damian’s gaze dropped to the dragon mark on his hand where one foot visibly displayed five toes. His focus snapped back to Cronus. “Did you know this when you played your game a thousand years ago? Did you know this about me?”
A spark of sadness flashed in the Ancient’s eyes. “There was never a certainty, only a hope. And it was never a game. Not when so many lives were—are—affected. We can only listen to the energy and trust that it will yield the results we need. There was no way to know that the winged ones would return. The energy picked you as being strong enough to carry the burden of the sacrifice required to trap Gog…now, we know why.”
“If that is true, then why did it take until now to manifest?” Damian could feel the truth in what Cronus was saying, but the doubt was still there. The turnaround in his position within the Energen world had happened too fast for him to just believe.
“The stone is the key,” Cronus answered as he tipped his head at Amber. “It is the key that unlocked the latent Energen gene in Amber and the dragon gene in you. Its power was forged when the earth was young, when the energy was purest.”
“So why didn’t you tell us this yesterday?” Amber spoke up, her eyes narrowed in thought. “Why did we have to play this game of lies and mystery for the last two days?”
Damian let a small smile show. Leave it to Amber to poke at the heart of the matter, and to identify the most important detail and seek the answer.
“Because each move had to be made by your own free will,” Cronus said. “Each decision on your path to this moment had to be made by you alone in order to obtain this end.”
“What end?” Damian asked.
“Louk and Airiana’s joining brought them the gift of dual power, the ability for both of them to wield his power of air and her power of fire, both in human and dragon form. Your joining has gifted the two of you with everything. The ability to shift shapes and to wield all five powers—air, water, earth, fire and spirit. This is a gift of true supremacy given only to ones who have the inner fortitude to withstand the lure of the evil that can come with holding so much power. A power the energy has never given to anyone—until now.”
Damian resisted the urge to stumble backwards at the impact of the Ancient’s words. It was only Amber’s strong grip on his hand that held him steady.
He closed his eyes and digested all that had been revealed. There was so much to understand, but little time to do so. The energy was pushing, the urgency building to accept his—their—fate and blindly follow. But could he?
“And you, Father?” Damian opened his eyes and held the steady glare of his father, who stood behind Cronus. “What do you think of this?” For the first time since arriving at the compound, sweat gathered down his back. His stomach muscles clenched as he waited for his father’s response, the man who had despised and blamed him for the death of Khristos.
The man whose opinion mattered the most.
His father, Kadmos, moved forward, each step aging his features until he stood before Damian looking old beyond his years. His blue eyes were dull, his cheeks sunken, his lips thinned in a grim line. Damian remained still and held his tongue as his father slowly regarded him, then Amber.
His father looked to Louk, blinked, then back to them. Slowly, as if the very movement would break his bones, his father bent to one knee before them.
The impact was instantaneous. Damian lost his breath and with it, the last of his resentment and doubt.
“I owe you much, Damian,” his father said, his voice low and filled with pain. “But mostly, I owe you my love. Something I stripped unjustly from you years ago. Now, I can only hope my actions don’t keep you from being who you were meant to be.”
Damian dropped to his knees, humbled by his father’s admission. The strong, formidable leader of the House of Air was admitting to his mistakes when he had been wronged just as fiercely as Damian himself. He reached out to grip his father’s shoulder. It was his first contact in over a thousand years with the man he had once admired and aspired to emulate.
Kadmos flinched, an almost imperceptible movement of muscles under Damian’s palm. Cautiously, the man lifted his gaze to meet his son’s. Unbelievably, tears shimmered in those eyes. Tears Damian hadn’t seen him shed even at Khristos’s death.
Damian cleared his throat, his words suddenly lodged behind the ball of humility that was stuck there. “It is you, Father, who have endured more than any one man should be expected to shoulder. The loss of two sons, the betrayal of so many
. The weight is heavy for one man to carry alone. It is time you let it go and let the past remain where it is. I have.”
His father blinked, swallowed and then lifted his hand to grip Damian’s shoulder. A sharp squeeze, a nod, and they both stood. An understanding reached in a way only men can achieve.
Damian took Amber’s hand and spoke to the assembled group. “There is much for Amber and I to discuss. Much that has been thrust upon us in a very short amount of time. I hope you will understand if we take some time to ourselves.”
“You are welcome to your old room at our house,” his father said. “Your mother will want to see you.”
Damian’s heart twisted at the thought of his mother. “Thank you, Father. But right now, we need our own space.”
“You know what is next,” Cronus said solemnly. “I know the energy has told you what needs to be done to protect the city.” He gave a sharp, assessing look to both of them. “We will expect you back here in time to complete your ascension.”
Damian gave a nod then tugged Amber to his side and dissipated out. The break was as much for him as her. He needed to hold her, to ensure that she was okay. She was his first priority and all that mattered in his world.
Right now, the rest of the world could wait.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
They solidified in the living room of Damian’s safe house, the comfortable surroundings instantly relaxing him. But it was the warmth of the woman in his arms that gave solace to his soul and peace to his heart.
Somehow, at a rate too fast to comprehend, she had broken past every barrier he’d erected around his emotions and exposed them to the glaring light of reality. He could hide no more, nor did he want to.
“Amber,” he breathed against her hair. The long, silky mass drove him mad with a desire to feel it wrapped around them, caressing their bare skin as he made love to her.
“Damian,” she answered just as softly, her warm breath stroking the skin of his neck, igniting a burning craving to touch her, to feel her heated skin beneath his hands, against his body.
